


And At Last, I am Gone

by polandspringz



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I stole the title from TAMB op lyrics, Platonic Relationships, Spoilers: Volume 3 (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-18 21:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16524605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polandspringz/pseuds/polandspringz
Summary: She had found him, bleeding out and drained of magic. She did not bother to ask about the strange looking machines, running on pure adrenaline, she had gone the opposite way of the evacuations ships, had raced past Grimm on a sprained ankle as she summoned what was left of her semblance to take the two of them to a safe place. She had not seen her friends in months, had no word on the state of her sister, and if she was being honest with herself-"Ruby," Ozpin's voice interrupted her thoughts, "I can see what you're thinking about."__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Ruby finds Ozpin in the basement of the school after the Fall of Beacon. She works hard to keep him alive, but they both know that their game of nurse and patient is only prolonging the pain.





	And At Last, I am Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Update: I would like to clarify some things.  
> I originally wrote this story to be ambiguous, at the time I was interested in the dynamic Ozpin and Ruby shared in Volumes 1-3, and wanted to provide something to one side of the FNDM that I felt could use something that was appropriate and not creepy as most of the works for anything with Ozpin and Ruby is marked as.   
> Now, that I am a bit older, I have removed the ambiguous tags, and edited my replies to comments about the nature of this narrative, although my original intent when writing it was to present it on the more platonic end of the spectrum, I have left my end notes untouched so you can see how I felt at the time I published this piece. I am not condoning the existence of Clockrose, but find too often that we people try discussing character relationships with an age gap, they have to jump to double-sided romantic/sexual discussions or else the relationship has to be paternal/maternal, as if you can't have a complex friendship that exists. I enjoy writing situations where characters are forced to confront different conflicts that may test their maturity and morality, and some scenes I describe in here I think forces Ozpin to put his priorities in order and continue to act as a headmaster and teacher to Ruby, and nothing more.   
> With this in mind, please enjoy.   
> The story takes place in the finale of Volume 3 after Ruby uses her silver eyes.

_Crunch. Crunch. Crunch._

Black boots sunk deep into seven inches of snowfall. Each step was frantic, the fleeing of a snowy, icy prison was followed by a knee cap popping painfully as it was bent high above the pile of white. The flakes shook loose of the worn leather, ankles and calves buffeted by the harsh wind, and finally- a descent. The sole smashed into the untouched surface of snow, crushing and crunching and flattening it as a cavern was carved out and snow encircled the numb leg encased in a torn stocking. This simple motion was one that had been repeated- repeated for many miles.

_Clink! … Clink! … Clink! … Clink!_

Then, there was the sound of metal tinging. A giant red crescent glowed in the navy darkness of the night overcast, shimmering and catching the eyes of still wildlife each time it glinted from behind a black pillar of tree. Rather than being used to slice or fight, the impressive scythe was reduced to a walking stick, the tip of its staff being submerged in the snow with the ferocity of dagger into one’s heart.

_Huff...Huff...Haaa…._

After an hour of non-stop trudging, the black and white embrace of the thousand twiggy tree branch entanglements began to separate, and the red and black figure was left standing on a hill before a clearing. From down below, they were merely a red stain a top the monochrome dye of the winter world, a drop of bloody watercolor that was expanding as the wind blew. The way the fabric of the torn cape fluttered and flowed in the wind resembled little rivulets of the paint that slowly made their way across the stark untouched canvas. From up above, the red stain had full view of a house cloaked in the shadows, a white snowfall piling up around the door and windows that were so devoid of life with its rotten, wet wood. 

Overhead, a crow soared through the flakes and gave a shrill cry, and the little red stain was off, walking stick in hand, boots sliding down the hill, spraying white flakes everywhere.

She bled into the bottom of the clearing, her boots quickly shaking off the pile of slush she had pushed up against her toes and she stepped forward, stepped onward towards the front door. With a small hiss, she fiddled with her scythe a bit, trying to get it to shrink down. Months of overusing with little access to all the tools the academy provided had left it in a much more primitive and rusty state, and rather than snapping into its smaller form to rest on her lower back, deft hands, pale and chapped from the cold, worked to remove cylindrical pieces. They were held between her teeth as her hand reached into her satchel, producing a gear that she slapped atop the device before she began to manually crank it until it had shut.

Fingers then crawled up the front of her, searching through layers upon layers for a threadbare ribbon, once long and useful to lace up her old cincher, now cut and fraying, laying in a loop around her neck. The red, muddy ribbon was wet with perspiration, as she nimbly worked it out of its hiding spot, the little weight on its end nestled under her dress and imprinted into her skin by the work of her corset. Without taking it off her neck, she leaned forward, gave several knocks in a sequence, and then grasped the small metal key and forced it into the lock. A twist, a click, and then a creak. The sounds did not carry far into the forest, nor did she want them to. Carefully, she picked up her weapon and slid around the barely open door, yanking it shut before locking it again from the inside.

The house was dark, it always was going to be that way, she presumed. She had come here when the leaves fell alongside Beacon, right after a time where her entire world, and much of the rest of it, was being upended by some mere people. Not Grimm alone, as she always believed or had heard in stories, but people, people alone. People with the same power as her, with the same fire in their eyes. The trees were still bustling with balls of foliage when she had dragged the two of them here, half dead, but despite the brilliant red and gold that littered the skyline outside, much of the house was still dyed in a pale blue. Too deep down in the clearing, cast in the shadows of the hills and nature, it was the perfect place to hide. As she shed her cloak, she let out a sigh before smiling at the darkness of the home. If she was a child, she might have cowered and rushed towards the nearest candle but now, she had learned. Darkness was good. 

Darkness meant shadows, and shadows could hide even the brightest red.

“Ruby.” A voice coughed out from down the hall and the girl was moving, her scythe clattering to a rest in the corner by the door. She made a left to reach the small corridor off from the large main room, and then briskly walked with her hand skimming the wall until she made it to the bedroom. The door was ajar, left open for air to circulate. Inside, it still smelled of sick though, and guilt bubbled up the girl’s throat as she regretted leaving him for so long. Carefully, she tiptoed in, watching as a hand rose from the blankets and reached up before it turned palm towards her and fell against the bed, and motioned. She rushed over and fell to her knees, grabbing the arm and pulling it towards her as she tried not to sob against it. 

“I’m sorry. I went out to get some medicine, but I ran into this beringel and I-” She ducked her head against the limp and cold hand, nudging it with her forehead as her hands toyed with the scarred fingers on it, “It should have been easy to kill but…” 

“Hush… Ruby,” The voice rose up from the bed, and their was the sound of fabric rustling, a squeak as the old mattress shifted, and then a warm and familiar face turned to greet her. His glasses were gone, left cracked and shattered on the bedside table next to his untouched cup of tea. His cross brooch and green outfit were nowhere in sight, traded in for some slacks and an old white button up that were hardly visible beneath the mountain of blankets he was buried under. Still, Ruby could see that the collar of his shirt was drenched in sweat, and she moved to deposit a small handkerchief from her satchel to wipe him off with but was stopped by his other hand coming up to cup her cheek.

“Professor Ozpin…” She croaked out, her voice wobbly and wavering as his thumb brushed over her skin. She could feel every burn, every scratch, every unhealed scrape that had been etched into his hand. Her eyes got blurry as she leaned into the touch.

“I am sure it was not an easy fight. Your scythe has likely become dull from overuse. Even with all the training in the world, no one is going to fault you if Crescent Rose cannot cut anymore.” He smiled at her softly.

“I was so scared during it…!” She began to sob, falling forward onto the edge of the bed, burying her head in her arms, her voice muffled, “I tried to keep calm because I knew more would come, but I kept swinging but it just wouldn’t slice through it! It had armor on it’s back and arms, so I had to try and get underneath it but then it pinned me and-”

The hand on her cheek had slipped away when she pressed herself against the bed, but now it was pulling up, as Ozpin began to right himself. Carefully, he moved to sit up, golden eyes staring down the sight of the crying girl as his brow furrowed.

“Where were you hurt?” He demanded. Her head snapped up.

“I can take care of it! More importantly- your medicine-!”

“Miss Rose,” The name cut through her flailing and made her still. She had manage to produce the bottle of tablets she had brought back with her, but seeing her mentor’s cold gaze, she lowered them into her lap. Her fists balled up in the fabric of her skirt, and she traced the cracks in the floorboard, ignoring the disappointment likely etched onto his face, “Please. You are still my student. Your safety is my number one concern.”

“It got me,” she whispered, “on my side. It cut through me here, I thought you wouldn’t notice if I twisted the corset to cover it.” She lifted her right arm and tugged a bit on the garment, sure enough, the lacing was lopsided on her front, and when pulled front, a very clear cut had been made through the leather and boning. Beneath all of that, though, Ozpin could easily see the dark brown of the dried blood surrounding the large gash. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, although his body protested, he ignored it.

He leaned forward, his fingers brushing over the area, to which she winced, “Where. else.” He stated, looking up at her expectantly.

“Ah, well,” she caught his wrist, and then hesitantly guided it down towards her torn up stockings, “It sliced the back off my thigh, right above my knee. I also got bruised pretty badly when it tossed me into a statue, and I got a few more cuts from the glass when I crashed through the window.”

“You crashed through a window?” He asked, eyes somehow narrowing even more as he tried to see if she was joking. The girl just scratched the back of her head nervously, and plastered on her big smile as she became flustered. Oz wasn’t having any of it, “Come on. We are getting you cleaned up.” He moved to stand, grabbing her arm and tugging.

“No, wait! You have to take the medicine first or-”

“The medicine can come later. We do not want that getting infected. You should be lucky we do not have to cauterize it.”

“Please, Professor Ozpin!” She cried, and Ozpin stilled, facing the door, “I went out of my way to get you this, and you have been a few days without it. We both know you need it. I’ll tend to myself after I know you’re okay.” He was still gripping her arm, and was thankful she was unable to see his face, as he was blatantly struggling with himself in the moment. Finally, his grip slackened.

“Very well. But I will be assisting you in cleaning and bandaging.” He said as he held his palm out for the tablet. Ruby hurriedly dumped them out in her palm and counted before depositing the right amount in his. When he had swallowed, she was cupping the mug of cold tea in her hands from the bedside, watching him chew the medicine expectantly. Another sigh fell from his lips and he took it from her, washing it down before he set it down on the table once more, “Now, come on.” He beckoned.

Minutes later, Ruby was seated on the lid of the closed toilet while Ozpin balanced on the edge of the bathtub. Ruby had stripped herself of much of her wardrobe, having to roll down her stockings and remove her corset so Ozpin could work his way around the large chunk the Grimm had taken out of her. Her cream blouse was folded on the floor, stained and smeared in the blood of her and the monster. The waistband of her skirt had been rolled down to rest hardly above her hips. Her tulle skirt was sitting next to her feet, fanning out like a flower next to her boots.

Ozpin kept his eyes locked on the injury at hand, glazing them back towards the pile of supplies he had accumulated in his lap when he fiddled with some ointment before he moved back to cleanse the wound. Ruby tried to lift her arms so he could move around her with the bandages as she rotated, but her arms quickly got tired, so as he rolled the gauze around her waist, she crossed them and pressed them against her bra, looking to the cracked mirror on the wall as Ozpin did his handiwork.

It had only been a few months since Beacon had fallen, but, her hair had gotten longer. Either that or all the dirt and grease was weighing it down after all this time. She could see Ozpin’s silver hair bobbing in the background as he tied off the wrappings. He reached for one of her arms and calmly pulled it away from her chest as he began to clean the cuts around her collarbone.

She still could remember climbing the tower, racing to the top with her semblance and Weiss’ glyphs, finding Pyrrha dead. Seeing Cinder smiling as she turned the warrior to dust, she remembered a blinding white light, and then the ground beneath her collapsing in. She had fallen quite a long time through the air, body cracking as she had slammed into the sides of various staircases, her limp body still going down. Eventually, she had hit one too many, and was knocked awake for a second just before she landed outside the elevator shaft. As she had started to sit up, the handle of her scythe came down on her, and she jolted with the impact before her body rolled over into the warped shaft’s depth. She fell a few more feet, and finally landed on the basement floor, where she heard groaning. She had scrambled to her feet, rushing to the back of what looked like a pitch black alley. She had found Ozpin, bleeding out and drained of magic. She did not bother to ask about the strange looking machines, and barely spared a glance at the corpse of a girl not much older than her slumped over in one of them. Her mind, running on pure adrenaline and fear, signaled for her arms to scoop up the headmaster, and she had fled.

She had gone the opposite way of all the evacuation ships, she had raced past Grimm on her sprained ankle as she summoned what was left of her semblance to take the two of them to a safe place. She remembered landing here, an abandoned place only touched upon in her memories of exploring the area as a child. She had not seen her friends in months, had no word on the state of her sister, and if she was being honest with herself-

“Ruby,” Ozpin’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked down at the man. He had just finished up dealing with the cuts on her legs while she was distracted, “I can see what you’re thinking about.”

“Sorry, Professor Ozpin... It’s just-”

“I have told you before, you don’t have to stay here. You have done more than enough for me, and I ever thankful for it.”

“No! You’re still-! What I mean is...!” Ozpin chuckled as he saw the girl’s arms fly about nervously, but coughs forced their way up his throat, and he tried to mask it behind his hand. Ruby frowned and reached down, readorning her blouse as she spoke, “You’re still unwell, Professor. I know you are a very strong huntsman, the strongest actually… but, I can’t leave you until you get better. If Cinder knows that you are still alive, and finds out that you are here then, without my protection she could-!”

Ozpin wiped his hand across his face, trying to hide the small amount of blood smeared onto his knuckles from Ruby’s watchful gaze, “Cinder is the least of our worries,” He let slip, but quickly corrected himself, 

“Do you wish to know about Yang? Or where Weiss or Blake went?”

“I… I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to see them again, but, Blake has left before and managed just fine, so I am sure wherever she is, she’ll be fine.”

“Even amidst all this chaos?”

“Yes.” Ruby’s voice grew smaller though, and her knuckles turned white as she gripped her skirt tighter, “And Weiss has her sister. She probably went back to Atlas with everyone, and is safe with General Ironwood.”

Ozpin found himself musing about whether there was any truth to that statement. He had only seen one the members of his inner circle since the fall, and they had little news to tell from Atlas since the embargo. 

“And Yang... well, Dad’s got her. And Yang has gotten back up from everything else before, I’m sure even without her- without her-” Ruby’s voice wobbled.

“Ruby, you should go see-”

“-Her arm, she’ll get right back up again! That’s her semblance so- I mean, losing an arm must count as a pretty strong hit. I’m sure whenever she sees Mercury again, she’ll be able to return that tenfold!”

Ozpin was silent at that. He had been told what was going on at Taiyang’s. Ruby had been out during that time, thankfully, as she did not have to witness both the truth about her sister and Ozpin’s struggle to remain unaffected in the face of all his failures. At his silence, she got up and began to pull her underskirt back on, fixing her socks so they carefully laid overtop the bandages. She was unaware of the White Fang, unaware of how her sister had jumped in from of the terrorist’s leader to protect Blake. Ozpin mused over all of this as Ruby slipped her shirt over her head and debated with whether to wear her corset. Opting against it, she tucked it under her arm and held a hand out to him to pull him up.

“Hungry?” She asked, “We still have some meat leftover from what I bought yesterday.”

Ozpin gave her a small smile and took her hand, grabbing his cane from where it was leaning against the sink.

Now in the main room, Ozpin sat at the small and old wooden table, drinking some watered down tea as Ruby worked her way around the countertops and stove, cooking. She had refused his pleas for coffee, as she said it would only agitate his heart in this condition. She had been taking good care of him, these past three months, and Ozpin was thankful for it, but he also knew that she was only prolonging the inevitable. He continued to “humor” her though, knowing all too well that it was for the best he went along with this little game- however long it lasted.

“Here you go!” The girl said as she spun on her heel and marched over to the table, two plates in hand. She had been taking on odd jobs in the small town nearby the woods here, never straying too far from the house, in order to afford a doctor and food. Recently, she had managed to scrape together enough to get them a large portion of beef, so for the past two nights, they had been eating quite well. Ruby claimed she bought it because it was supposed to help with healing. Ozpin noticed that she had placed more on his plate than her own for this very reason.

Ozpin had difficulty walking since his fight with Cinder. He had always had the cane, but that was more of an aesthetic from those past than for his own use. Still, he hated the look Ruby gave him whenever he moved to lean on it. His leg certainly was in bad shape, most of the burns and missing, scarred flesh covered up by his clothes, but he disliked the fact that it, and the numerous other wounds inflicted by his last fight, were not enough to kill him instantaneously. All of his previous selves had swift passings, quick transitions between their bodies. He thought he would be the same, although he had lived a long life already, but instead he was being left to rot, left to burden others with his pain.

“I suppose they just never got close to anyone.” Ruby mused, and Ozpin jumped in his seat. He had forgotten what they were talking about, “I mean, in the history of Vale, it has not been too long since the Great War, so I understand why people are still so isolated out here, and for us I guess it’s better that way, but… The town is in such ruin, and not by Grimm or any attack, it’s just so…”

“Primitive?” Ozpin supplied.

“I wasn’t trying to use that word but yeah. It’s like looking back a century.” _I’ll have to see it for myself soon,_ Ozpin pushed that thought away.

“Much of Sanus is like that, sadly, Ruby. Solitas is perhaps the only place you will see with complete modernization across all its land, as the people there needed it to survive. Which is a bit odd, if you consider how isolated they are from the rest of the world.”

“Yeah, I was gonna say! I mean, you would think with two kingdoms sharing it, Sanus would have more in the way of cities and stuff.”

“But we have a more hospitable climate, and much more forests. Grimms find their home easily on this continent.” 

“I guess.” Ruby said, as she finished up her food. Ozpin felt bad, he had not really touched his plate. He had been feeling nauseous the whole day. Ruby seemed to notice this, but didn’t say anything as she took his away. The time where she would cheerily insist he try to eat or ask if he enjoyed it long gone. They both were lucky that Ozpin was even able to eat outside of the bed anymore.

“Do you want to stay in here or…” Ruby drawled out. She knew she had to clean up the mess in Ozpin’s room, as she had smelled it quite heavily since coming home. She had locked the door to try to contain the scent of vomit. Ozpin forced another smile, the nausea in his throat still rising as he felt nothing but guilt and disgust for himself pile up inside.

“I think it would be best if I stayed here. Would you like me to work on fixing up Crescent Rose in the meantime?” He did not miss the way her eyes flashed at the mention of him handling knives, “Ruby, I promise. I know students at Signal are supposed to forge and care for their own weapons, but frankly, you and I both know there is nothing you can do by yourself to fix it.”

_Unless you leave here,_ was left unsaid.

“You know that’s not want I meant.” She frowned, but walked towards the door and picked up her scythe and laid it on the table, “If I knew you were going to do this I would have definitely rejected wasting the bandages on me.”

A scowl formed on his face as he looked up at the glaring girl, “Miss Rose, we both know that you would have died of an infection before I passed, and as I have told you before, you don’t understand why I needed to-”

“What don’t I understand? Why do you think I won’t get it? Why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling beforehand? I’m trying my hardest to stop you from dying because you are the only one who knows how to defeat Cinder yet why are you so insistent on abandoning us?!” 

“I’m not abandoning you! If I die it will be for the better because-”

“I’ve already lost everyone else because of me why do I have to lose you too?!” She screamed before storming down the hall. Ozpin was left half-standing at the table, hand outstretched to empty air as doors slammed open and closed. Ruby dashed into the bathroom, gathered in her arms a random assortment of cleaning supplies before she ducked into the bedroom, locking the door behind her. 

The man sighed and sat back down, pushing his bangs back. He had not meant to remind the girl of the first week of their arrival here, but it was true. Ozpin looked down at his lap, his hand coming up to rest against his heart. The power of the fall maiden had left him in very bad shape, yes, but nothing compared to what he had inflicted on himself when Ruby was away one morning. He was dying, rather slowly at the moment due to Ruby’s care, and his aura was fading with his soul with each day. The punctures he had rained down on his chest would not heal properly, and he could not forgive himself for what he made Ruby, his student, come home and bear witness to. A part of him, however, was angry at her for interrupting his attempt at reincarnation, although she preferred to call it suicide. Semantics as it was, she was ignorant to his position, to his power, to the job he needed to fulfill, and as such, he could not fault her for believing that if he died, all would be lost. Neither him nor Qrow had been given a chance to talk to her about her silver eyes since the fall, as Ruby wanted to keep up the illusion that no one knew where she was and the belief that everything that had happened at Beacon was not going to come full circle.

Ozpin grabbed the scythe and moved to open it up on the table. Truthfully, he did not know what he could use to sharpen it, and Ruby would grow upset if he stepped outside, but he did not want to leave his student with a faulty weapon.

There was a knocking at the window, and Ozpin glanced up, seeing a small beak pecking at the glass. Reaching for his cane, the old man moved as quickly as he could, opening the window to let the little crow in. The bird cocked its head at the man as he leaned on the windowsill, and its red eyes blinked at him for a few moments before it cawed loudly in his face. Ozpin looked to the left of the bird, seeing a decent size rectangular stone just beyond it on the sill.

“Oh, thank you.” Ozpin said, reaching over the creature to grab it. It was a whetstone, a little bit scratched up from prior uses, but it would work nonetheless. As he pulled the stone back into the house and weighed it in his hand, a flash of white light ignited in the corner of his vision, and a black feather drifted down before something curled around his hand.

“Why, hello there, old friend” Ozpin said, with a soft smile.

Ruby was on the floor of the room, scrubbing the vomit out of the cracks in the floorboards. By this point, she was practically unphased by the stench and sight of such things in the room, although it was worrying how often she was coming home to find Ozpin covered in it and sometimes his own blood. He had luckily missed his sheets this time, although she would still have to wash them as they were drenched in sweat from the previous night, but at least she was relieved she would not have to stink up the house with bleach and her knuckles would be spared of being rubbed red from the wet linen. 

She could hear a sharp whistling noise as Ozpin worked at what she assumed was sharpening her scythe. She was a tiny bit thankful to him for that, she had been quite frightened when the beringel nearly ripped her to shreds earlier today. Crescent Rose was is dire need of some proper repairs, things she probably would not be able to do for years without special training. She wiped her brow as she finished getting out one section of vomit, and turned to get her dry towel when she saw another spot on the ground. A bit unusual, it looked as if Ozpin had thrown his head under the bed to do vomit. Carefully, she tucked her hair behind her ear as she laid down against the floor, looking underneath the wire frame of the small bed to get a better look. It was all the way in the back, near the wall, and it looked somewhat fresher than the last bit she had cleaned. Standing up, she grabbed the underside of the bed and tugged at it, and it squeaked along the floor and bounced in her hands. Like nails on a chalkboard, the sound was disturbing, and eventually, Ruby just dropped the thing back onto all four its legs, satisfied with the small space she had created between the wall and it. 

Kneeling on the mattress, she pulled the sheets dangling over into the gap up, really not wanting to have to scrub any stains out of them tonight, and looked down at the vomit. Her eyes widened as she made out the black and red spots in it, and rushed towards the door, just as the whistling noise stopped and a crash boomed from the main room.

“Ozpin!” She cried, skidding to a stop just outside the hallway. She did not see a puddle of blood, no knives or cutlery piercing him. But, this time, Ozpin was on the floor, his chair toppled over, and he was not moving.

She rolled him onto his back as soon as she got to him, examining his face. His eyes glossy, he kept blinking them, and his skin was cold and clammy. All Ruby could remember was calling his name, her hands running over him, completely at a loss of what to do. She could see no blood, no injury to patch up. Ozpin was unresponsive, besides a few groans and hisses as he kept blinking. Eventually, she just pulled him into her lap, and gripped his hand, leaning over to rest her head against his chest as she cried.

“Please…” She begged, images of Pyrrha disintegrating flashed through her mind, “Please... How are we going to fight Cinder? How are we going to reform Beacon without you? How will we-”

“Miss Rose…” The voice was strained and raspy, the usual smoothness of the older man’s tone lost as he felt his mind slipping, “You need to go to Haven. The others are-”

“I already told you this before! I am not going anywhere without you! If we have to go to Haven to finish off Cinder, we’re going there together!” 

“Ruby,” He tightened his grip on her hand, and forced his eyes to focus and pierce her own gaze, “It won’t make any sense if I tell you this now- and now I regret I avoided telling you this sooner- ugh…” he winced as another pulse of pain racketed his body, “If you go to Haven, you will see me again. I will be in a different body, but my soul will be the same. You have to find the others, because that is where Salem will be striking next.”

“Salem? Who- Who is Salem? What about Cinder?” Ruby cried.

“Ngh... Cinder doesn’t matter anymore, Ruby! If they get the relic there, then we all are on the path to damnation. I promise you- as soon as I leave here, I will immediately make my way to Haven. I will explain everything to you once I get there, and your uncle can tell you some on the way there.”

“But...how are you…? Ozpin I don’t-”

Ruby’s thoughts were shut down as she felt Ozpin’s hand slipping out of hers. She watched as his eyes went blank, empty, and his lids began to droop. His shaking began to subside, and his head lolled backwards, slowly, and Ruby was torn between holding the falling hand and reaching out to catch his head as it suddenly dropped back, dangling off the side of her lap as his hair gently brushed the floor.  
Ruby could only stare at the body laying across her, a scream unable to even warp its way out of her vocal cords. Her hands slowly crawled up her, her fingers eventually finding purchase on her face where her nails dug into the skin as she let out an ugly, violent sob, and then she was wrapping her arms back around the man, pulling him against her as she held him and she rocked herself with her dry heaving.

_“You…”_ Ruby went deadly still as an imaginary voice seemed to fill her ears. In fact, it sounded like many voices swirling around at once, and her eyes snapped opened as she felt someone pulling Ozpin’s body away from her.

_“You have…”_

As the moonlight creeped in through the open window, Ruby’s hands came up to clutch at her scalp, and she watched as Ozpin was gently dragged to a halt where he slumped against the person’s knees. Her eyes followed them up, past Ozpin’s shadowed face to a familiar gray and white dress shirt- _to a cross necklace- to the red eyes of-_

“Come on, silver eyes.” His gruff voice grunted out as stood in the light of the moon, “Your friends have been waiting for you.”

There was a moment of breathlessness, where all of the emotions that had been shoved down deep inside of Ruby since the Fall came bursting up. They bubbled deep inside of her and at last, as her eyes glossed completely over with water, her voice wobbled as she leapt up and forward towards the moon’s light.

_“Uncle Qrow…!”_

When morning broke, the white snow was dyed in a pale orange glow, and the logs on the house were colored in a soft gold. The entire night, a mottled black and red splotch had worked to dig out the earth under the snow, and make way for the stiff body of their friend that had only recently faded away. They placed the silver speck in the grave, carefully lowering him into the ground to return to dust. Walled up in the cold dirt of the hole they dug, his face still shone brightly, the sunlight glistening through the tree branches overhead to shine on his resting face. Then, with a strangle sob from one of them, the other equipped his shovel once more, and began to bury him, saying a faint prayer as he tossed dirt over top his eyes.

They fled shortly after, only collecting the small amount of belongings that the girl and the man had accumulated during their few months of stay here. The red figure took up her scythe and adorned her cloak. The black streak glided aimlessly through the house, picking up things that seemed to slip into his hands naturally. A cane, his own weapon, a cross brooch that he toyed with between his fingers before he decided to step outside and set it atop the grave, which was now decorated with rose petals. The girl was a few ways off, at the foot of the hill, eyes dead and void as she watched the sun continue to rise in the sky.

“Come on kiddo. I promise you he’s waiting for you at Haven.”

She was silent, and merely tugged on the straps of her backpack in response.

Haven meant nothing to her. The name implied a place of warmth, but all she felt was cold.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I took a lot of inspiration from how cosplayers design their RWBY weapons and props when describing how Crescent Rose has been altered, as in order to make the weapons open and fold up they often remove or add wooden pieces or crank gears. I'm a cosplayer myself, so I'm always looking at things like that. Once again, I really wanted to write something different for the Clockrose community, because I understand the interesting dynamic that occurs with an older, influential/mysterious male character and the pure, innocent apprentice character that helps them open up emotionally and I thought that too often when people condemn this as a ship, they miss out on the mature, complex relationship that can be observed.  
> Update: This does not mean I am condoning Clockrose as a ship, I don't approve of people instantly isolating a discussion between two characters dynamic because some portion of the tag views it as romantic, when other want to discuss the other potential relationships that can be analyzed.


End file.
